


where the children play

by im2old4thisotp



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Childhood, Kid Scott, Pre-diagnosis, Teen Wolf, kid stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 02:03:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10675422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im2old4thisotp/pseuds/im2old4thisotp
Summary: Scott and Stiles on an ordinary day that turns not-so-ordinary, just like *that*.





	where the children play

**Author's Note:**

> This is a vignette that I wrote that won't end up in any story, so I'll just put it here so y'all can read. From little kid Stiles' POV (hence the run-ons).
> 
> The story was initially a bunch of vignettes strung together by the phrase, "I don't think I can do this." It has changed 100% since then, so this no longer fits in the big story.
> 
> I write way out of order, so sometimes stuff ends up on the cutting room floor. This is one of those.
> 
> I love kid!Stiles and kid!Scott, though, so there may be more of this someday. But today is not that day.

The little boy sat with a figurine in his hands, jumping it up and down slightly as he imitated the speech. “Han Solo. I’m captain of the Millennium Falcon. Chewie here tells me you’re looking for passage to the Alderaan system?” He looked up suddenly, his brown eyes staring expectantly across the carpet, where his friend sat, a mystified expression on his young face.

“Umm….” The boy with the dark eyes and floppy hair looked at the two figurines in his hands. He held one of them up, a hopeful expression on his face. “Rawr?”

“Noooooo!” The skinny arms flailed, dropping the figurine as he crossed the carpet on his hands and knees. “Scotty! You are Obi-Wan Kenobi right now!  He says, ‘If it’s a fast ship,’ and then Han says, ‘Fast ship? You’ve never heard of the Millennium Falcon? And Obi-Wan says, ‘Should I have?’ and then Han says, ‘It’s the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs.’ Remember, Scotty?”

Scott held up the other figurine, questioningly, “Then who’s this guy, Stiles?”

Stiles grabs the figurine away from Scott, rolling his eyes. “Dude, how many times do I have to tell you? That is Luke Skywalker. He is going to lead the Rebellion against the Empire, but he doesn’t know it yet. First they have to get off of Tattooine, which is why they need Han’s ship, the best ship in the entire galaxy.” As he spoke, Stiles gestures wildly with the figures, as if larger movements will convey the gravity with which he spoke. Scott, being a good friend, listened, but really didn’t care. Stiles had explained this to him so many times, but he couldn’t seem to get the characters right.

“But there is one that says ‘rawr’, right?” Scott says, hopefully.

“Yeah, that’s Chewbacca, Han’s right hand wookie.” Stiles fumbled around on the floor until he found the brown figurine. “This is him.” He handed the figure to Scott.

“Oh, yeah!” Scott’s eyes alighted with understanding. “Okay, we played  _ Star Wars _ . Can we go outside now? My dad fixed your bike and I want to ride!”

Stiles’ shoulders slumped with disappointment. “Okay, sure Scotty.” 

He was desperate to play  _ Star Wars _ with  _ someone _ , but it really couldn’t be Scott. He hadn’t seen the movie  _ at all _ , which Stiles thought was absolutely crazy because he saw it in the theater 10 times and wanted to go again but his Mom said it was getting a little excessive and she couldn’t take him anymore and maybe he should go play outside. 

Mom would have been the perfect person to play with him--she had seen the movie the same amount of times as Stiles had--and she really must have liked it to go with him ten times, right?--and she bought him the figurines that he had seen at the store and couldn’t stop talking about for days and weeks. But she would sit down to play with him and she would fall asleep, or she would get really angry when Stiles told her she was saying the wrong lines, or she would have to stop playing because she had a bad headache.

Mom was gone right now, with Dad at “an appointment”. He didn’t know what that meant, but it seemed to maybe be important because Dad took off work at the station to go, and he didn’t do that very often, not even when Stiles had tripped on the rug downstairs and cut his lip really bad on the railing and had to get 2 stitches and he couldn’t eat anything but ice cream for a week. That was a great week, Stiles thought.

Stiles followed Scott downstairs and outside and they rode their bikes up and down the street until he saw the Jeep pulling into the driveway.

“Dude! My Mom’s home! I gotta go, okay?”

“See you at school tomorrow, Stiles!” Scott turned his handlebars toward home, and Stiles walked his bike back to the garage and put it inside next to the Jeep because his mom got mad if he left it in the driveway like he did last time and she ran over the bike wheel and Scott’s dad had to fix it. 

He opened the back door and walked into the house, stopping short when he heard the unmistakable sound of his mom, crying. He quietly walked to the doorway of the kitchen where he heard his mom and dad. He didn’t mean to spy on them, really, but his Dad was there in the middle of the day, and his mom was crying, and he didn’t know what to do so he just stood there in the doorway and listened, his hands fumbling with a string at the bottom of his t-shirt.

“Noah, I don’t think I can do this,” he heard her say through her tears. Her voice was hard to hear, like she was talking into a blanket. Stiles peered slowly around the corner and saw her there, her forehead leaned against his Dad’s shoulder, her voice muffled by his shirt.

“I know,” Stiles saw his Dad slide his hands up her arms, caressing her shoulders, and moving so his hands were cupping her face, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks.

“He’s so  _ young _ . I’m not ready for this. I don’t want to leave my baby, Noah,” 

Stiles couldn’t take his eyes away from his mom.  _ What was she talking about? _ He saw her falter and he took a step forward into the doorway, watching helplessly as she fell to her knees sobbing. His dad grasping her and holding her as he moved to his knees to join her. Stiles took in the scene in front of him, for once his body still and calm. The silence in the room, usually overwhelmed with Star Wars battle cries and classic rock, was now quiet except for Claudia’s shuddered breathing, his mom and dad holding each other.

For the first time in a long time, Stiles didn’t want to talk. He stood in the doorway watching his mom and dad crying together and he knew that he shouldn’t talk about his fixed bike or his broken shoelaces. He was still little, but he felt the weight of the moment, even though he didn’t understand it. He wanted to understand. 

“Mom?” Stiles whispered. Claudia and Noah looked to the doorway at the same time, and Stiles noticed their eyes were red, their faces streaked with tears. He was scared now. Dad didn’t cry. If Dad was crying, it meant something bad. He couldn’t keep the worry from his face. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

Claudia held out her arms to him. “Come here, sweetheart.” Stiles was hesitant, but then walked slowly towards them, relaxing when he felt his mom’s warm hands wrap around him, pulling him into her lap. He smiled when his dad wrapped around him from the other side, his big arms enveloping him and Claudia, until Stiles was smooshed in between them, cozy and warm and safe. He felt the wetness on his dad’s shirt from her tears.

His dad pulled back first, settling back on the floor, crossing his legs and patting the floor next to him. “Son, your mom and I were at the neurologist today. They did a scan of your mom’s brain.”

Stiles looked up at his mom, who was looking down at him with tear-filled eyes. “Baby, I have something I need to tell you.”


End file.
